


A Heart Seeks Solace

by Mirkwoodmaiden



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Companionship, Family, Gen, Healing, Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:22:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26403391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mirkwoodmaiden/pseuds/Mirkwoodmaiden
Summary: A companion piece to "The Heir Apparent." It is the anniversary of the day Celebrían took ship for the West for nearly 500 years Elrond has shared the pain of that loss with very few.On this particular anniversary Elrond shares his grief and finds compassion from a source close to his hearth and home.
Relationships: Celebrían/Elrond Peredhel
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	1. Friendship is offered

Imladris. 2938 TA

Gilraen stood at the opening that led out onto her balcony overlooking the twin waterfalls that fed the Loudwater and sighed. The beauty of this view always managed to somehow salve her emotions when they became too raw. It had been five years since she and little Estel had arrived bedraggled and heartsick on the doorstep of the Last Homely House. Elrond had opened his doors and his heart to the forlorn pair and for that alone he had earned her love and respect. 

She spied her small son tearing toward the river in his wading outfit clearly aiming for the portion of the Loudwater that created an eddy safe enough to wade in. “Be Careful, My love.” She called down from her balcony. Elmiran who had just come into view carrying a drying wrap for her son answered back, “Don’t worry. He will be. I will see to that!” Gilraen laughed and as she smiled her thanks she mused that Elmiran should have brought a drying cloth for himself as he knew full well Estel’s mischievous tendencies. 

“I hear that Elmiran is going for a swim, although he, himself, does not fully suspect this quite yet!” Gilraen turned at the melodious tenor of Elrond’s voice tinged with amusement as it was at that moment.

“Yes, I afraid that will be the case. But Elmiran knows the risks taking Estel swimming, so if he doesn’t take precautions, well…” Gilraen said her voice trailing off knowingly, shrugging her shoulders and chuckling softly.

Elrond walked out onto the balcony, sharing the space with Gilraen as he watched Estel and then Elmiran disappear from view. “He has grown well.”

Gilraen sobered a bit and answered, “Yes, my lord. He has. In no small part to your tutelage.”

Elrond smiled and gazed thoughtfully at this amazing woman who had given so much of herself in the past five years. He found her a marvel. “Come, let us take lunch together.” He requested as he held out a crimson silk clad elbow waiting for Gilraen to accept his offer.

At first she demurred, “Oh no, my lord. I do not wish to take lunch presently. I wish to work a bit more on the rug for the Great Hearth and then I will take lunch.” She hesitated because she, even after all these years, did not wish to take more of Lord Elrond’s time than was strictly necessary.

“My lady, it would delight me to have your company for lunch. The hearth rug can wait, please my lady!” His pale blue eyes gazed at her placidly, but within their depths she saw a pain he was desperately trying to hide. She did not need to have the Sight to know that Elrond was denying pain and was seeking to distract himself from it by reaching out to another. Gilraen, no stranger to pain herself, could not deny the Elf who had given them not just a roof over their heads but a home.

~*~*~*~*~

Gilraen sat in the airy nook where she, Elrond and Estel took breakfast. The twins often joined when they were not on patrol but they also had their own suite of rooms and did not this day join the two for lunch. Elrond sat in a plush armchair and reached across the smallish table filling Gilraen’s glass with the fine Dorwinian vintage that he greatly favoured. Gilraen smiled her thanks and took a sip. She sensed something different about Elrond today, though she did not know what it was. He was often quiet, this she did not mind. It meant that she could be alone with her own thoughts. He respected her privacy and did not ask overly intrusive questions. Even now she still did not wish to dwell too deeply upon the past. It only brought inexpressible pain and that was something she could live without. This life had been foist upon her and she was making her way as best she could. Questions only made things difficult. Yet she found herself asking, “My Lord, you seem sad. Is there a reason for such sadness? Is there something that I may do to aid you?” She stopped, wondering at the question that had just fallen out of her mouth.

Elrond looked at her, a bit taken aback. Their conversations never strayed beyond that of Estel and the running of the house to which she had become the unwilling Chatelaine. As mother to Elrond’s foster child the role grew around her and it was one she had grown accustomed to. It gave her purpose beyond the care of her son and gave her life structure, which had become very important in the intervening years. There was fellow feeling between the two, sharing as they did the raising of Estel. But it was an unspoken relationship that had grown over the years, never bearing further definition or explanation.

Judging by the look that flashed across Elrond’s face, Gilraen sensed that she had crossed some imaginary boundary that she had never before approached, “I beg pardon, my lord. It is not my place to ask.”

Elrond, seeing the embarrassment and discomfiture written upon Gilraen’s face, quickly move to dispel such unnecessary emotions, “My Lady! Do not fret. I am not offended. There is no need for such embarrassment among friends.” Elrond paused and a gentle acceptance of the friendship she tentatively offered settled upon him. They were friends. He realised the truth of that statement and also the loneliness that surrounded it. Elrond realised that while he had very warm working relationships with all contained within Rivendell’s boundaries he had very few he would call friends. All looked to him for guidance and it was a responsibility that he shouldered most willingly; it was his duty to lead his people, but very few did he let into his heart. It had sustained so much pain and loss over the centuries that it had rather closed in upon itself cocooning the love within; the love he held bound, for it was the only way he could exist after Celebrian’s departure. Gilraen’s proffered concern and friendship touched upon this protected core and on this day of all days, the anniversary of Celebrian’s departure across the sea, it warmed it slightly. He very rarely spoke of this anniversary to anyone, even his children for they all bore their own scars. He was reminded of the dark places of the heart his beloved twins had traveled in the years following Celebrian’s departure. He had almost lost them also…to pain and despair.

“I fear I have distressed you. Perhaps I should go?”

Elrond broke from his musing of his wine goblet; the unfamiliar emotions still coursing through him to behold Gilraen’s concerned face. “No, my lady. You have not. Please stay and forgive my melancholy. You ask after my sadness. It is true; this is never an easy time for me.” He took a deep breath and decided that it was time to unravel some of the pain in his heart to someone who could perhaps understand the depths of it. “You see upon this day, my Celebrian took ship for the West.”

A silent “O” escaped Gilraen’s mouth and her eyes held a compassion that allowed Elrond the strength to continue. Five hundred years it had been…

~*~*~*~*~*~ 


	2. A Story is Told

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elrond shares with Gilraen memories of his beloved Celebrían including why she had to take ship for the West.

2509 TA – Imladris

Celebrían stood on the banks of the Loudwater holding up her silken gown of peacock blue so that it did not touch the water. She lifted her face to the gentle morning sun feeling the cooling breeze softly caress her face as it slid past. She loved this time of day, when the sun slipped from below the horizon to begin the promise of a new day. She laughed gently to herself. If only Elrond could hear what she was thinking he would call her his soft, silly poet, rhapsodizing about the beauty of daybreak. But she did not care, she loved mornings. She wiggled her toes in the silt of the riverbank enjoying the squishy coolness beneath her feet. The rustle of the morning wind through the leaves sang in her heart and in return her heart sang a song of its own. She loved this land.

“My lady wife, are you singing to the trees again?”

Celebrían turned around and saw her husband standing not five feet away, “Yes, if you must know,” she replied good-naturedly.

Elrond had awoken earlier than usual and found his lady not in bed. He had not worried for he knew exactly where she would be. He loved nothing more than to slip quietly outside and watch her stand within her element and silently sing, nestled amid the nature that she loved so much. He would stand off from the riverbank and watch her. She was so beautiful standing there swaying gently back and forth holding up her gown like a little girl, bare legs swishing in the cool, flowing river water. He swore that in these morning moments he could almost hear the song in her heart and it much salved his own, wearied as it was with much toil and strain that bearing Vilna brought. Her soul song eased his sea-longing and made light his days. “Do not let me stop you.”

Celebrían smiled broadly and held out a hand that did not have gathered skirts in it to her sometimes too somber husband. “Come here, my lord. And take off your slippers. You need to feel the coolness of the water.”

“Must I?” Elrond said inwardly smiling, goading his wife just a little.

“Yes, you must!” Celebrían stated emphatically, laughter evident in her voice. “Now come here!

Elrond slipped off his slippers and his morning robes and step toward the riverbank.

Celebrían looked upon him approvingly as he stepped into the shallow water. “Now wiggle your toes.” Elrond obeyed and was rewarded with a delightfully squishy feeling that cooled him from the feet upwards. Celebrian looked upon the smile that spread across her husband’s handsome face, a face that most often wore an expression of shouldered responsibility, with satisfaction and admiration, “Now kiss me!” she said mischievously.

Elrond looked down as his petite wife hungrily, “With pleasure, my lady wife.” He bent to kiss her and as their lips met, Celebrían threw her arms around Elrond’s neck and amid the shifting silt of the riverbank they toppled into the water. And they did not seem to notice until much later.

~*~*~*~*~*~

A week after their unexpected dip in the river waters, Elrond sat his study pouring over an obscure document saved from before the time of the Last Alliance. At least what he was attempting to do. In actuality he was thinking back to the time he and Celebrían had spent at the riverbank. A smile stole across his face as he remembered how they were almost caught. They had arrived at the kitchen doors sopping wet and had to wait until the staff had left the kitchens. No small feat considering the size of the household staff. But eventually the opportune moment had arrived and the Lord and Lady of Rivendell made their way through the kitchens and up the backstairs leaving a mysterious trail of water spots in their wake. Truth be told he could have walked in the front door and not have bothered with what any and all might have thought. But that was just not Elrond’s way. His private world with his wife was just that, private. He had always been thus. He surmised that this behaviour stemmed from when he was an elfling and had been kidnapped. Then he did not fully understand the world around him but he knew that it was best to keep his feeling under wraps; that it was not wise to allow people to know what he was thinking as it could be used against him. These lessons, learned early, had stayed with him though the long centuries of his existence. Years upon years of pain and loss had only served to strengthen these learned patterns. After Elros had chosen the path that lead him away from his brother, the only one who had truly broken through the centuries of restraint was Celebrían. He could remember when he first met her. She had come to Rivendell before the commencement of the Third Age. The two were thrown together seeming as if by design. 

A lifetime of restraint began to melt away as Elrond warmed to Celebrían. She was lively and full of laughter. She brought him out of himself. With her he somehow knew it was unnecessary to hide his thoughts and feelings. They could flow freely. Elrond shook himself and traveled back from remembrance. He sighed as he realised he was going to get little accomplished this morning. His mind was too easily distracted, too full of thoughts, both disturbing and pleasant. Celebrían told him of her impending trip to the south to see her mother and father. Misgivings about the trip traveled around his mind refusing to settle down and eventually he reasoned that these misgivings were due to his too-over-cautious nature, summarily dismissing them. He rolled up the parchment he had been attempting to study and replaced his quill in the holder that had been specially commissioned by his children many a naming day ago. A gentle scent came in on the breeze and nudging his senses to seek the outdoors; Elrond accepted the proffered invitation and stepped through the translucent crimson curtains onto the balcony overlooking the bridge that lead away from the Last Homely House.

Celebrían walked into the study seeking Elrond to deliver some household news. She had expected to find him in his study as he had mentioned over the morning meal that he would be reviewing scrolls throughout the morning. In looking about the room for her lord she smiled. His essence was here as always, whether or not he himself was physically present. The book-filled walls and instruments of learning that dotted the room and as ever spoke to her husband’s inquisitive nature and his love of knowledge. Her eyes fell upon the globe of the Heavens. Smiling, she remembered two small elflings looking wide eyed at the hollow globe with the stars of the sky spread across its surface. Hearing Elladan’s long ago voice reciting, “The Plow…the Ship…the Eagle,” as he in her mind’s eye pointed to the various constellations, Celebrían almost wished that her two boys had never grown up, but that was not the way of things. Elladan and Elrohir had grown to be noble and strong warriors of Light and she could not be more proud of them.

Her eye broke away from the globe and returned to her perusal of the room. Done in the rich warm colours of russet, burnt orange and crimson red the colours reflected the calm and yet passionate nature of her husband. She loved this room because it was him, his sheer essence of urbanity and knowledge tempered by wisdom. She heard a sigh from beyond the sheer crimson curtains leading to the balcony. Smiling she walked silently to the balcony and parted the curtains. Circling her arms around her husband she spoke into his russet brown silk robe. “And what has my lord sighing so heavily this fine summer’s day?”

Elrond, hearing the buoyant and beguiling voice of his beloved, said, “Nothing that can’t be chased away by your sweet presence my love!” he turned around in her arms and beheld again her striking blue eyes that always seemed to look straight into his soul. Celebrían held her breath and lost her train of thought, still even after their many centuries together, when he looked at her with those earnest pale eyes in that certain way it made her fall in love with him anew. Elrond leaned down to kiss his diminutive yet indomitable wife, their lips touching in a soft caress that put him in mind of matters of a less spiritual and troubling nature. Stroking her silver tresses that fell partially plaited down her back, he suddenly had an urge to escape the confines of his study and his house and to be among the trees that enveloped and protected Imladris. “Let us walk, my love. I’ve been too long in my study these past weeks and I feel the need to have the earth beneath my feet!”

Celebrían looked at the strange light in his pale blue eyes and thought that something was up for discussion, but it was a thought she chose not to voice. Elrond would tell her in his time, centuries together had taught her as much. Instead she smiled and quickly agreed, “Let’s! The cooks can tend to the noon meal without my guidance this day!”

They stole quickly through the halls aiming for the shortest route to the forested environs beyond the walls of the Last Homely House. At one instance, Elrond stopped just short of a turn motioning Celebrían to remain silent, “Glorfindel! He’ll want to ask me something of undoubted importance! Therefore we are not going this way.” Celebrian stifled a giggle with some difficulty. Elrond stepped slowly away from the corner, “Let’s try this way!” He whispered to his softly giggling wife.

They stepped cautiously toward the door that lead to the Herbarium. “This path should be less busy!” It was, except when Celebrían noticed the very capable form of Mariel, her head of house. “She’s walking briskly towards my Solar, a sure sign of need and import. Let’s wait here until she passes. “I’m sure whatever it is it will keep for a few hours longer.” 

Elrond smiled slightly, “I’m sure that, as ever my love, you are correct.” 

They paused for a few minutes and then made their way through to the herbarium. Fragrant herbs hung in drying bunches scenting the room causing Elrond to inhale deeply, allowing their scent to calm his jangled nerves and allowing him to focus on what he needed to say to his wife. He knew she would not want to hear what he had to tell her, but he knew within the core of his being that he must say it. Whether it was his own cautious nature that sounded the warning within his heart or if it was something more he could not tell but say it he must.

Finally after dodging a few more who would have asked a bit of their time each, they gained the outdoors. A light breeze blew through the near trees filling Celebrian with the sense of harmony of she had felt ever since she was a young Elfling growing up in Lothlorien. As they walked along the riverbank, Celebrian felt the essence of the forest flowing through her and filling her soul with its ethereal song. It, as ever, sung her true name asking her to run through forested green with a wild joyous abandon. She glanced at her husband walking along side and could see that he, too, heard the forest calling to him, that wild look shadowing his normally so controlled visage. She had loved him for more centuries than she could really remember and she could almost hear his thoughts before he had even spoken them. She knew what he wanted to say; what he needed to say. And her heart grew heavy. She hated to deny him anything, but she would not be shielded from life. Lost in these thoughts she sighed. Elrond hear the small noise but whether from sadness or joy he could not at first tell but as he watched his beloved he saw her face grow in rapture as she strolled along the bank. 

A very different vision intruded upon Elrond’s thoughts as he watched his beloved bend to pick up a colorful stone that caught her eye. In a flash he saw his Celebrían standing upon the same point of the riverbank just before the bend in the river and the look upon her face was heartbreaking. She looked lost and afraid. The pain of remembrance seemed to hang heavily upon her, shadowing her soul and shuttering her face. The image seized his heart and he abruptly stopped walking and blurted out, “I cannot allow you this trip, I will not allow it!” Elrond winced as he heard his voice die away waiting for his fiery wife’s wrath to unleash itself. He did not have to wait for long as he rued his inauspicious beginnings of persuasion.

Fire snapped in Celebrían’s blue eyes as they darkened with emotion to stormy midnight. “You won’t allow this, my lord!” She bit off the honorific in a fit of pique, “I have said I will go! And go I shall! I’ve not seen Adar or Naneth in far too long!” A little sense returned to her eyes. With a clear and successful effort to remain calm, she asked, “By what reasons would you have me stay?”

Elrond seized the small bit of rope he was being thrown and as calmly as he could began his explanation, thanking the Valar for this small slot of time to reason with his beloved wife. “As you know the Watchful Peace has ended. I pour over scrolls in order to divine a meaning to it all. The Darkness is growing, _Guren!*_ At first I believed it was my cautious nature. But we have had reports from within the Greenwood itself that Dol Guldur is once again occupied!”

Celebrían remained silent for a few moments, moments that allowed Elrond to believe she might actually hear reason. But when she looked deep into his eyes he knew the battle was lost. Elrond sighed and braced himself for what was to come.

“My love, I know you worry. And with apparent good reason, but if we allow such news to dictate our actions, our comings and goings then the forces of darkness have already gained their first victory in this long war. They will have succeeded in placing fear in our hearts.” Celebrían sighed, “Oh my lord,” she said, sympathy filling her blue eyes, “I will be careful…and I will be fine! We ride with many outriders and the dark has not grown so strong that it can truly cause great harm!”

~*~*~*~*~*~

“Great harm,” Elrond looked at Gilraen, “Those were her words! She left the next morning…and was never quite right after that…” Elrond’s voice trailed off, lost in his memories of Celebrian before she answered the call of the sea. Gilraen saw the unshed tears fill Elrond’s pale blue eyes. She remained silent as Elrond struggled to rein in his grief. Her fingertips sought his and touched Vilna and she was once again reminded of the responsibility that had been placed on Elrond’s shoulders, but she reached passed the ring to comfort the hand that was gripping the table in an Elf’s effort to quell the powerful emotions. Gilraen knew there could be no words to assuage such loss. Painful experience had taught her this, but by touching she could tell Elrond that he was not alone in his grief, not anymore. She could feel the burden of his grief and it was great. She wanted to offer what solace she could.

Elrond felt the touch of her hand, warm and caring, and it shocked his senses at how much her touch at this moment meant to him. Gilraen had known her own losses but until this moment that fact had never truly come home. He looked at her as slowly the warmth of her touch enveloped his heart, seeking to heal, seeking to help. Elrond looked into her hazel eyes and saw understanding, mercy and solace all waiting there for him. He sat mesmerized, gazing upon a face so different from his beloved Celebrian and yet there was communion of like souls bound in pain that he could not deny; did not want to deny. “My lady…” he started hesistantly, haltingly. Gilraen gently smiled, “Shh…” she rose from her chair and knelt at his side, her hand once again on his, gently removing it from its grip of the table’s edge. She looked at it, beautiful tapered elegant fingers, the ring of Vilna leaving both a literal and figurative scarring on the otherwise unblemished hand. She thought about all he had lost and the visceral pain that he was so clearly trying to will away; her pain allowed her to see his. Her heart ached. She turned his hand palm up and placed a gentle kiss in the center where the life and heart lines cross. She looked up into pale blue star filled eyes that gazed back at her in wonder and communion. Elrond raised his other hand to tenuously stroke her cheek feeling her warmth and compassion make halting entrance into his wounded soul twinning her pain with his. His heart reveled in this communion, at least at this moment he was no longer alone. Gilraen rose from her kneeling position gently navigating the folds of silken skirt fabrics from around her legs all the while her eyes lingering on his. She tenderly caressed his face and softly placed a kiss upon his forehead, his eyes, his cheeks. She pulled back to once again to look into pale blue depths as if to seek she did not know what, acceptance, guidance, understanding. What she saw was his own heart asking that she not stop that she continue to salve his wounded soul on this saddest of days. Elrond felt the kisses upon his face as a benediction and from far away came into his soul, a sound of pure sweet joyous laughter. Celebrían’s laughter. He smiled and pain everpresent on this day receded. He looked at Gilraen stroking her cheek “Hannon le, my lady.” He whispered fervently, taking her upturned hand in his, softly kissing the palm on the lines of heart and life. He looked again into her warm hazel eyes and found what he had not realized he was seeking, a communion of two souls, finding a path through.

~*~*~*~*~*~

* _Guren:_ My Sindarin gloss for “My heart.”


End file.
